


sometimes we long for something we can't have

by trynawrite



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Relationship Study, Sailor Moon Classic, Sailor Moon R, Sailor Moon R Movie, This is a mess tbh, but i have Feelings about usagi and the inners, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trynawrite/pseuds/trynawrite
Summary: Getting resurrected is not fun. Remembering the time you died saving the world is even less.
Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi, Luna & Tsukino Usagi, Tsukino Usagi & Inner Senshi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	sometimes we long for something we can't have

**Author's Note:**

> i hesitated posting this because it's all over the place and basically just consists of me struggling hard to put emotions into words but eh  
> title is inspired by lang leav's acceptance

When Usagi falls back, it comes as a relief. The wind whips past her ears, light flashing before her fluttering eyelids, and as she slips into the dark, she thinks she feels arms wrap around her. 

If they ever get reincarnated again, Usagi hopes it’s in a more peaceful world.   
*  
Usagi wakes up. Her alarm won’t shut up. She’s late for school.  
*  
She doesn’t want any of these memories. She doesn’t want to recall anything except that she’s Tsukino Usagi, 14 years old, clumsy and a bit of a crybaby but most of all an ordinary, ordinary girl. 

The cat with the crescent-shaped patch on its forehead whispers, “I’m sorry, Usagi.” 

Usagi wishes she couldn’t understand what the apology was for. There’s a surging sensation in the hollow of her chest and she shuts her eyes, feeling it wash over. 

“I remember,” she says. Her throat is croaky and scratchy but she manages to look at Luna straight on. “I remember now.”   
*  
Luna paces her room, tail flicking high in the air, while Artemis settles comfortably on the bed. 

“No,” Usagi decides from her spot on the carpet.

“I agree.” Luna glances at Artemis. “They deserve to remain normal.” 

Usagi swallows thickly. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she chirps, an easy grin dancing on her features. “I defeated Metalia on my own, remember? Sailor Moon’ll be more than enough for the city, and we won’t need to bother Rei and the others at all.” 

The next day Sailor Moon is sent landing butt first on the rough ground. Flares of red hot fire whoosh out to strike the minotaur-like monster before she can get any more injured, and she knows it’s too late.  
*  
The following hours are a blur. Four people sitting around her swapping gossip and anecdotes; Ali and En; Mamoru being the only one out of their group that hasn’t yet recovered his memories; hearing herself say, “Ami. Rei. Mako. Minako.” 

Usagi repeats the names over and over, and every instance feels like the first and final time she’ll ever get to roll the syllables on her tongue.  
*  
The Cardians are a piece of cake (or so Usagi says) as compared to Queen Metalia. Even so, it doesn’t stop Usagi’s heart from pounding up a storm in her chest whenever one of them dodges an attack by a hair’s breadth, or when they fall to the ground, bruised and battered. It feels she’s back to being helpless and useless and a mere observer to everything around her, and it’s during one night, when Usagi wakes up with sweat sticking to her face for the fourth time that week, that she realizes she is a prisoner of her own living nightmare.  
*  
“Do you think if these suit me more, or do these suit me more?”

Usagi tears her eyes away from the rose necklace in the display case. “I think the ones on the right? It brings out your eyes.” 

Minako raises the ribbons up to her hair, squinting at her reflection in the mirror. 

“Isn’t it a bit too flashy?” 

“It’s fine!” Usagi grins. “Flashy suits you. I thought your red ribbon already suits you plenty, though. Just the right amount of Minako-ness.” 

“We all need to have a change of pace now and then,” Minako says crisply. “I’m getting these two. You buying anything, Usagi?” 

The leader of the senshi, goddess of love and beauty, knows cute winks and jutted hips like one does breathing. As Minako approaches the counter, it feels like Minako and Venus are one and the same. Usagi hasn’t figured out whether that’s a good thing or not.

The poor register blushes dark red, hands fumbling as he hands over the change. It’s easy, Usagi thinks, to be drawn into Minako’s eccentric charm, so naturally charismatic in a way that she, who has only ever known Tuxedo Mask’s little smiles at her flimsy attempts at flirting, can only wish of becoming. 

Whenever Usagi tries winking nowadays, Mamoru just makes a face.

They head back to Usagi’s house, the reapings of their shopping trip swinging to and fro. Ikuko offers pancakes for tea, Usagi wolves them down without manner and thinks she sees her mother shaking her head in the corner of her eye. 

Minako, on the other hand, eats with more grace than her usual chaoticness should allow her to. Her fork and knife don’t clink together, her cuts are sharp and clean, and Ikuko gushes over her table manners and tells Usagi she should learn from Minako. 

Minako chuckles. “It’s a common skill or two I’ve picked up in England,” she explains. “It’s nothing special.” 

Ikuko showers Minako with more flowery words than she ever has, and Usagi frowns and drags Minako upstairs. She makes sure the bang of the door echoes throughout the house. 

“Sorry if that bothered you,” Usagi tells Minako. “She can be too enthusiastic.” 

Minako smiles as Usagi takes a seat beside her on the bed. “I think it’s charming.” 

“’Charming’,” Usagi grumbles. “She hasn’t praised me like that for years!” 

Minako pats Usagi as a means of comfort. “Don’t worry. My mom always rants about how terrible my math is. It’s the same with mothers everywhere.” 

“But you’re good at English,” Usagi whines. “I’m not. I’m not good at anything. I bet my mother would do anything if she could have you as a daughter.” 

“Nonsense.” Minako snorts, rummaging through her shopping bags. “You’re plenty good at other stuff, I’d say.” 

Usagi scoots closer. “Like?” 

“Like...saving the world?” 

“And?” 

“Hey, I think saving the world counts as the best thing you can ever excel in.” 

“And?” Usagi presses. 

“And…” Minako’s eyes swivel around the room, finally landing on Usagi’s hair. “You can do your hair well.” 

“Thanks, Mina.” 

“No problem,” Minako says breezily. “Hairstyling is a skill that’s gonna come in handy one day, after all. Or now. Can you help me do my hair?” 

The next ten minutes Usagi fiddles with blonde tresses that are smooth and smell of flowers, though she can’t tell which kind, and brings Minako to the mirror when she’s finished. Minako tilts her head to one side, then the other, and raises a hand to touch the ribbons in her hair. 

“We look identical.” 

Blonde hair, blue eyes, and now the same bunhead hairstyle. They might look alike, but Usagi takes one look at Minako’s posture and knows she can never be like her. 

“I don’t wear blue ribbons in my hair.” 

“True. You’re more of a pink sort of gal.” 

“So are you.” Usagi rests her hands on Minako’s shoulders. “If you transformed right on this spot, I bet you’d look exactly like Sailor Moon.” 

“No way! I’m orange-themed, remember?” 

“Right.” Usagi goes for a smile. “Princess Serenity, then? She only needs a white dress.” 

“Nah. Sailor V is where it’s at, I tell you.” 

“Why? You should go be Sailor Moon for a day, wave a wand and stuff, see if you can fool anyone.” 

“And kiss Tuxedo Mask? Sounds like a fair trade.” Minako laughs, meeting Usagi’s eyes in the mirror. “I was kidding, sweetie. God, you looked like you saw a ghost!” 

“Not funny.” Usagi pouts. Minako smirks one last time. 

“You know what? I think hair down is more my style.” In one swift motion, the ribbons are freed. Golden hair tumbles down Minako’s back, silky and flowing, and she ties one of the blue ribbons through her locks. “That’s much better.” 

“There goes the result of my efforts.” 

“Your bunhead thing wasn’t for me.” 

“What do you mean, I thought it suited you!” 

“Nah, I’m not you,” Minako says, with a noncommittal wave to the ceiling. “True, I don’t look half bad with your hairstyle—when have I ever? But there are things only you can wear, and there are those I can’t. In the meantime, I’ll just have to make do with being the irresistible incarnation of love and beauty.” 

“That’s what you say,” Usagi mutters, and feels silly that they’re talking so seriously over something as trifle as hairdos.   
*  
As a sailor senshi, whatever peace they grasp is often fake, fleeting. Even then, they indulge in it like parched travelers do to water, savoring every little second before a dark pillar of light springs up somewhere in the city and they’re forced to head into battle again. 

They spend most of these lazy afternoons in cafes or shopping malls, and, some while later, in Rei’s house, where Ami’s study group is often held in session. For a few hours, they get to agonize over what new crush they’ve had and, in some specific cases, worry about which high school to enter. It should be lighthearted, delightful, yet Usagi occasionally catches herself staring at smiling faces and has to remind herself it’s not her fault her friends were robbed of a normal life. 

Then again, she thinks she’s been the weakest out of the five of them since day one. Usagi could never really summon enough courage to face evil in the eye, always protected by the senshi or Tuxedo Mask or even Luna. That, too, hadn’t changed after D-point, except that Usagi would rush into the scuffle a bit more recklessly. The others are courageous, selfless, dedicating themselves to their duties in ways Usagi couldn’t. In ways she can’t. 

Luna runs in, panting, telling them the enemy has appeared and Artemis is keeping watch for the moment being. Usagi sees how the carefree atmosphere is broken in milliseconds, but she stands up with the others nonetheless, trying to not let anything show on her face. 

“Let’s go,” Usagi says. 

The other four nod, because they have no problem with being born into this. Usagi feels her heart sink, before the senshi side of her takes over as she raises her transformation brooch to the heavens.  
*  
She’s spent possibly up to tens of hours alone with Makoto before, but a foreboding sense of anxiousness creeps up on Usagi as the ringing of the doorbell echos throughout the apartment. Then Makoto appears in the doorway, smile as lively and earnest as ever, and every worry she’s had evaporates instantly. 

Makoto ushers her into her living room and tells her about the new dish she’s experimenting on. Usagi knows all about it, of course—what do you think she came here for? She begs Makoto to let her help make it, but Makoto merely grins a tad sheepishly and asks her if she could set the table instead. 

Thankfully, Usagi results in breaking not one, merely two plates and not the ten Makoto was joking about. She scrambles, fumbling for a broom, and in the end she shrieks and slips on the shards. Makoto oversees the entire process and, a not quite exasperated smile dancing across her lips, says she deserves some credit for not bursting into laughter on the spot. 

Makoto’s hands are warm, gentle, full of life. Usagi watches them pick bloodied glass out of her bare feet and, not for the first time, wishes she could go back and forget. 

Makoto spares a glance up. “It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” 

Usagi shakes her head, hesitates. 

“Say, Mako,” she whispers. “Why do you do so much for me?”

Makoto’s fingers pause in the midst of wrapping the bandages. “Why should I not?” she replies easily. 

“It’s not because I’m Princess Serenity, right? Because if it is—“ 

“Don’t be stupid,” Makoto says, almost reprimanding. “It has nothing to do with our past lives and whatsit.” 

“Is it because I have the Silver Crystal?” Usagi says in a rush. “I’m the only one with the power to save the world, so—“ 

Makoto pulls the bandages tight, and Usagi sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Oh, shit, did that hurt you?” 

“A bit. It’s fine, though! I was surprised.” 

“Good.” Makoto’s eyes soften around the edges. “Are you okay, Usagi?” 

It takes Usagi a while to realize she’s not talking about her foot. 

“Yes,” she forces out. “Yes, but—but why would you do so much for me? I don’t have any talents, all I do is mess up, and I keep on giving you trouble. See, it happened just now, too!” 

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Makoto says, as fierce as someone who’s crouching on the floor can look like. “You’re cheerful, you’re kind, and you never give up on anything that matters. You’re great, Usagi.”

Usagi searches Makoto’s face, clean and without a cut or a speck of blood. “That doesn’t answer my question.” 

“You’re important to me,” Makoto says simply. “You saved me.” 

Arms wrap around Usagi’s shoulders. She doesn’t completely understand, but the hair tickling Usagi’s cheeks is too real to be a dream, and she opts for returning the hug.  
*  
The five of them have felt death before. They know what it’s like, yet at the same time neither of them really understands. 

“Honestly? It wasn’t that bad.” Makoto shrugs, much to the surprise of the others around her. “I mean, it was terrible, but I thought it’d hurt tons. Like how in fights when you’re being grounded to the floor and you still feel the fists pounding on you? I imagined it’d be something along those lines, only ten times worse. I ended up thinking I was paralyzed instead.”

“Can’t say that was the case for me,” Minako pipes up, legs swinging on Rei’s porch. “For me, well, I don’t recall much of it. I know there was fighting, and then there was… nothing. Zip. Nada. It’s funny, you know? ‘Cause you’re dying, and it’s supposed to be something big, real dramatic and stuff, but if you told me I just lost consciousness, I’d have believed you.” 

“That is death, in a way,” Ami says. “It’s losing your consciousness, except it’s for eternity.”

“Eternity, my ass.” Minako snorts. “When has logic ever applied to us?” 

“Was that just it for you too?” Rei stares at Ami. “You lost consciousness, and that’s all?” 

“Yes.” Ami casts her eyes to the ground. “In my last few moments my mind was blank. In retrospect, I suppose it was rather strange that every train of thought seemed to stop all of a sudden, but I don’t think I gave much thought to it then. I thought it was the same for everyone.” 

“It wasn’t,” Rei says tersely. Usagi thinks she sees Rei glance in her direction and something unpleasant grips her heart. 

“You didn’t regret not kissing a certain someone, did you?” Minako hides her sniggers under her hand. “I recall there was something like that before we left, hm?” 

If looks could kill, Minako would be dead in a ditch a hundred feet under. “No, there wasn’t.” 

“You sure?” Makoto eyes Rei cheekily. “I know I certainly had some regrets on that field.” 

Rei’s cheeks tint pink. “Alright, just a bit. But that wasn’t what was most important at the time.” 

“Oh?” 

Rei looks at Usagi again, and Usagi wants nothing more than to change the topic. What parts from her mouth, however, turns out to be: “Oh, were you thinking about a missed date or— umph!” 

Rei forces out a beam, hands wrapped firmly around Usagi’s mouth.

“Oooh, Usagi’s right, isn’t she?” 

“No.” Rei glares at Minako. “See here, I was dying. Of course I’d go, ‘All things considered, at least I’m going out for the sake of the world’.”

“That’s anticlimactic.” 

“It really wasn’t.” Rei clears her throat. “And then I didn’t get to go on, because everything went cold. I tried to summon my fire, and the last thing I remember, strangely, is that I felt painfully warm. Whatever that was, I hated it.” 

“So you were cold, and after that you were warm?” Ami furrows her eyebrows. “I think a reasonable explanation would be that your magic was leaving you, thus provoking an unstable body temperature.” 

Minako takes it rather differently. “That sounds like the temperature in my kitchen whenever I make porridge.” 

“I’m describing how I died, and you’re gonna tell me it sounded like cooking?” 

“What about Usagi?” Makoto says loudly over Minako’s nonsense. “Did yours feel like you were being cooked too?” 

Rei releases Usagi. For once, Usagi wishes she would hold on longer. 

“Well… it felt funny?” 

“Thank you, genius.” 

“Stop being mean to me, Rei!” 

“How was it like?” probs Ami. “Did the Silver Crystal make it more bearable somehow?”

Usagi chews on her lip, trying to curl within herself. “There was this,” she starts, “sensation. I don’t know if you guys felt it.” 

“I felt a lot of sensations when I died, Usagi.” Makoto frowns. 

“There was this chill, first,” Usagi says. “It was scary, to the bone kind of scary, and I got this vision of the world in ruins. So obviously I was getting scared, and then there was this light, from the crystal, maybe? And after that I felt like I was in the midst of a group hug. I smelt Mamo’s cologne.” She laughs, too loud for it to be natural. “Also, there were hellfires.” 

“There weren’t hellfires when you battled Beryl, were there?” 

Usagi shakes her head at Minako. “Nah. It was snow, snow and more snow. But you guys were there.” 

The other four exchange looks. “Were we,” Rei says. 

Usagi looks out at the four of them in disbelief. “You guys were there,” she repeats. “You definitely were. I heard your voices. You held my hand!” 

“We were dead,” Ami tells her. 

Usagi crosses her arms. “Then you came back.” 

“That could work,” Makoto says, looking up at the sky. “For one instant, we came back.” 

“Yes! Thank you!” Usagi turns to Minako. Minako, who has the most information about the Silver Millenium out of the team. It could be a remark or two concerning the fashion senses or attractiveness of Lunarians, but then she’ll talk about Jupiter joining Mercury in the library, or Mars accompanying Serenity to the flower fields, or that one time Endymion snuck in and Venus caught him prowling around in the main hall. Whatever it is, Minako remembers, even if it’s only a little.

“What did I say?” Minako asks. 

“You… you shouted encouragements. We used Sailor Planet Power. You all said your part.” 

“I’m sure,” Minako says. Her eyes are soft, matching the others around her. Well, the others except for Rei, who’s regarding Usagi with another look entirely. “Do you want to go for some ice cream?”   
*  
“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” Usagi sobs. The fabric of her pajama pants is soaked wet, the covers crumbling underneath her curled toes. “I don’t—I can’t—“ 

Luna, for once, doesn’t talk about past lives and responsibilities. She says, “I’m so sorry, Usagi.” 

Usagi’s shoulders shake violently. The other four senshi stare back at her, sailor uniforms a bright contrast against the dull ice around them, lifeless, peaceful. Next to them Mamoru has his eyes closed, like he’s asleep. 

It’s all she can see every time she closes her eyes. 

‘I hate this,” Usagi cries. “I can’t stand dreaming—knowing—that it’s because of me. They keep dying because of me—it’s all my fault, Luna, it’s my—”

“It was a nightmare,” Luna says firmly, little paw on Usagi’s knee. “They’re alive, and you saved them. You saved the entire world.” 

“I didn’t!” The sound is shrill, almost strangled. She shakes her head, pounds her fist on her bed weakly. “The Silver Crystal did. All the others—they came back and they did. I—halfway through I—I kept crying. I led them to their deaths. I said…I said I would rather give the crystal up if it meant they were alive. I’m not… I didn’t…” 

Luna cuddles up to Usagi, allowing her tears to soak through her dark fur. “It’s okay, Usagi,” she murmurs. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” 

The moonlight frames the room, cloaking it in a ghostly veil. By next afternoon, Usagi will pop up on her feet again, not exactly eager but at least willing to take up the role of Sailor Moon, and yet tomorrow isn’t now.  
*  
In the fairytales Usagi grew up with, it was always the prince that punched the villain. Never was it the princess doing the punching, or was it the one being punched. 

Usagi once said, in the middle of an especially emotionally draining night, “I’m not Princess Serenity. I’m Tsukino Usagi, and Serenity can go to hell for all I care.” 

Luna kicked her in the face. Usagi stumbled, falling on top of a plushie, and one would’ve thought she’d have gotten used to being hurt right now.

“You are the princess,” Luna said through gritted teeth. “That is your calling, your duty. Never think you can tempt fate, or that you can change your destiny. What’s written in the stars is written in the stars.” 

What if I resist real hard? Usagi nearly shot back. What if I break my transformation brooch? Would you leave me, then, because I failed to become the Princess Serenity you want me to be? 

Usagi says instead, in a tone she didn’t know she could use, “Say, Luna, how would you feel if Artemis gave himself up for your sake? Would you have just accepted it as fate and brushed it off like nothing?” 

Luna gapes at her. Then she turns out of the door and doesn’t speak to Usagi for three days straight.  
*  
It’s one by the time she arrives at the shrine for the meeting—a full hour late than the twelve they confirmed yesterday. Rei, understandably, gets upset. 

“You’re a sailor senshi!” she yells, brushing away the others’ halfhearted attempts to placate her. “Will you, for once, actually act like someone whose duty is to save the world?” 

And it should’ve stopped there, because Rei shouting is nothing big, but Rei goes on: 

“At this rate, anyone could have the ability to be a better Sailor Moon than you!”

It’s a typical Rei insult. Usagi should’ve gotten used to it ages ago. She opens her mouth to retort that she couldn’t help it, that she met Mamoru on the way here and wanted to help him get his memories back, and yet the words don’t make it through the lump building in her throat. 

Someone calls her name as she flees down the stairs in a blurry haze. If it were anyone else, Usagi thinks wildly, they’d have managed well enough on their own that they wouldn’t need the other four senshi to awaken from their mundane lives. If it were anyone else, Mamoru would have already fallen in love with them for a second time, not just due to reincarnation circumstances. If it were anyone else, they could’ve saved their best friends from dying at D-point, not been a whiny coward, wouldn’t have let that affect them even till now—

She thinks of how wise Minako is; how strong Makoto is; how smart Ami is; how brave Rei is. And she thinks of her, Tsukino Usagi, dumb and clumsy and a crybaby. 

By sunset, Rei finds her at the game corner. She apologizes for being harsh and inconsiderate. Usagi forgives her, and takes advantage as they’re hugging to wipe away any trace of tears that might’ve been lingering before.   
*  
Usagi falls asleep after the final battle against Ali and En, too exhausted to talk. She dreams of scenes from the recent fight, some hopeful, some terrible, and the visuals melt into another battlefield, one with stormy clouds overhead and white as far as the eye can see. Skin exposed to the icy air, Usagi, throat hoarse, sneezes. 

“Look who’s up,” someone says, and then another: “Whoops. Better not have you catching a cold.” 

A blanket of warmth surrounds her. Usagi blinks blearily to find a familiar jacket around her shoulders. 

“Good morning, Usako.” Mamoru smiles warmly. His hair falls into his face, not so much that his vision is obstructed, but just enough to make him seem younger, eyes brighter. 

“We ate tons of cake while you were sleeping, princess.” Rei leans back on her chair. On the table casts many empty plates, all of them strewn with stray dollops of cream and cake crumbles. 

“If you can’t find your order, it’s because Mina ate it,” Artemis pipes up. A rather bold action, seeing as he’s on Minako’s lap and so Minako is free to abuse him whenever she pleases. 

“What a liar.” Minako casually shoves the poor cat onto the ground. “It was Rei who ate half of it!” 

“Well, Mako ate a quartet!” 

“Are you seriously comparing a half to a quartet?” Makoto snorts, head perched on her hand. 

Ami looks up from her book. “I saved a bit of mine for you,” she says over Rei’s retorts, pushing the only plate that’s not empty towards Usagi. It’s so ‘a bit’ it takes Usagi a while to shake out of her stupor, and by the time she does, she’s become fully awake.

“That’s it!” Usagi musters every inkling of intimidation she possesses and throws herself across the table at her bickering friends. “You all owe me cake and that’s final!” 

“I’m not buying you cake,” Rei says, her nose in the air. 

“I’ll make—“ Usagi starts, hands already in place in hopes of strangling someone, but a pair of firm hands pull her back down.

“I’ll buy you every cake you want,” Mamoru says, gaze soft and smile sweet, and Usagi snuggles close to his chest, ignoring the mixture of groans and swoons coming from the others. 

“If my wallet can afford it, that is,” he adds. Usagi pouts and drags the menu from Rei’s hands, blowing raspberries at everyone laughing around the table. It’s a sad day for his wallet, for Usagi’s been waiting for this for longer than he can begin to comprehend, and she’s about to devour the entire shop’s cake stock.  
*  
Then Chibiusa appears, and Usagi hears Mamoru’s voice in her sleep as well, over and over, like a broken recorder. 

“I don’t like girls who are weak,” he says, standing amongst the fallen senshi, whether it be on the wrecked rooftop of an apartment building or the icy arena Usagi knows as well as the back of her own hand. “I don’t like girls who are weak.” 

Every night, Usagi sits up with her fingers gripping the covers so tight it threatens to tear into pieces. It doesn’t help that sometimes, Chibiusa’s on her bed, calm and serene, and it makes Usagi want to shake her awake and yell in her face. 

But Chibiusa has tears on her cheeks, too, and Usagi will hear her mutter for her mother and her heart will melt, and she’ll return to her part of her bed, head buried in her knees. 

If it were anyone else, Usagi thinks bitterly, this wouldn’t have happened. She wonders if one day, she’ll start thinking she deserves Mamoru’s hatred, because she is that weak, so the next morning she throws herself into a fresh vigor to win back his heart.   
*  
Ami treats Usagi to ice cream after Usagi burst into her classroom, test paper waving in the air and looking too happy for someone’s who scored a mere fifty. 

“You got a hundred again, didn’t you, Ami?” 

Ami smiles over her ice cream cone. “It was a close one,” she says. “I’ll have to study harder.” 

They stand on the footbridge, overlooking the busy roads beneath and the ice cream shop below. Usagi licks her cone and points out, “But you basically study twenty-four hours a day.” 

“That’s exaggerating it.” Ami leans on the handles of the footbridge and peers up at the limitless blue sky. “I do have to do better, though, if I ever want to become the doctor I want to be.” 

Ami, Usagi knows, dreams more than anyone. She does it during class, during cram school, during studying before bed, because it’s not just a dream. Where Usagi’s dreams are far-fetched and delusional, ranking up around the ‘Pigs can fly’ level, Ami’s are wonderful, attainable, something she’s genuinely working hard for and have ached for a time longer than anyone can imagine. 

Usagi wonders what right she had, what right destiny had, to hold the power to stop that. 

“You should have gone to Germany.” 

Ami glances at Usagi from the corner of her eye. “What came up all of a sudden?” 

“It was a rare opportunity,” Usagi says, staring down at her ice cream. It’s starting to drip. “It was the perfect start for you to become a doctor.” 

“It’s not as if I can’t become a doctor in Japan.” A hand rests on Usagi’s own on the rail gently. “I chose to stay in the end. The what-ifs don’t matter anymore.” 

“Can you still contact the guys in Germany? Do you think you can make it over there now?” 

“Usagi! I’m not going.” Ami clenches Usagi’s hand; looks at her, subdued and melancholic. “I thought you wanted me to stay.” 

“I do.” The answer spills out before Usagi can stop it. “I don’t wanna lose you, Ami, or any of the others.” 

Something in Ami’s eyes softens. “Then I’m not leaving.” 

“But!” Usagi whirls around. “But I also want the best for you, and I want you to become the best doctor in the world!” 

“And I’ll get there,” Ami tells her, more firmly than Usagi’s used to. “For now, I’m staying.” 

Usagi stares at her, matching the look in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this for me,” Usagi says, and doesn’t care it comes out slightly desperate. “You’ve done too much already. Go on, put yourself first.” 

“I am putting myself first, and I want to stay.” There’s no room for argument, Usagi finds, before Ami’s shoulders relax.

“I made my choice,” she says, “and I’m standing with it.” 

A memory prods at the back of Usagi’s mind. In the midst of picking stained glass, Makoto crouches on the floor of her apartment, expression steady and true. 

“I understand,” Usagi says, and the two exchange a smile. And then Usagi turns away, and licks at her ice cream that’s been long since forgotten.   
*  
One day Usagi sees Chibiusa’s hand in Mamoru’s and from then on they’re rarely seen apart. He’s here when she comes to pick Chibiusa up from school on rainy days. He’s here when she turns a corner and sees him buying chocolate for Chibiusa. He’s here when she’s arguing with Chibiusa about which kind of curry is the best curry to buy and he never fails to take the brat’s side. 

“You’re being silly,” Luna says as Mamoru ruffles Chibiusa’s pink hair lovingly. Usagi, hidden behind a tree, tugs at her blonde curls and sighs. 

“She’s a child, Usagi.” 

“I’m a child too,” Usagi says. “Not of age.” 

“You and her are two different matters!” If Luna could throw up her paws, she would. “You’re overthinking this.” 

“Wasn’t it you, Luna, who told me that Mamo and I were destined to be together? I’m doing my part of this destined thing now, just so you know.” 

“Fate will run its course,” Luna insists. “Be patient.” 

“Patient? He said he didn’t like girls who were weak.” In the park, Chibiusa’s talking to Mamoru by the fountain, gestures flying about animatedly. Usagi glimpses the look on Mamoru’s face and wonders if he ever seemed this happy around her. 

“You’ve told me, Usagi.” 

“Is Chibiusa really that strong, or am I that weak?” 

“You’re Sailor Moon. You’re the furthest thing away from weak.” 

“I’m Usagi,” Usagi says. “Sailor Moon is strong. Tsukino Usagi isn’t.” 

Chibiusa already has her family, her friends, her boyfriend, and even her name. Usagi should just give her the transformation brooch while she’s at it, along with the Silver Crystal Chibiusa wants so much, before disappearing and no one would find out the difference. Juban Tokyo might not be able to afford losing Sailor Moon, but it sure can go on without weakling Tsukino Usagi.

“Say whatever you want.” Luna flicks her tail high in the air. “It doesn’t erase the fact that you’re the reincarnation of Princess Serenity, and now, a sailor senshi. You’re all of them at once, Usagi, and anyone who says you’re fragile is wrong.”

Usagi knows Luna’s trying her hand at comforting despite being terrible at it. But she’s given up on figuring out who she herself is, at this point, whether she’s a princess or a superhero or a simple fourteen-year-old girl.

Mamoru leads Chibiusa out of the park and to the supermarket. Usagi follows.   
*  
The Youma dissolves into a pile of sand on the ground. The crystal flickers briefly, dulling into a flat onyx, and Koan teleports away with a string of curses.

“Thanks, Mars—“ Sailor Moon tries to say from her spot on the grass, but Mars, her arms still around Moon, spits out, “What were you thinking?!” 

The other three crowd around them in the shade of the tree, expressions ranging from worried to relief. Mars wears none of them, shouting, “Why did you put yourself deliberately in front of the attack, you idiot?” 

“I didn’t!” Moon wants out, yet Mars’ grip is strong, far stronger than the usual prickly tenderness she offers Usagi. “It was going for you, so being the good teammate I was, I pushed you out of the way!” 

“And you got struck by it afterwards!” 

“Am I not supposed to do one good thing?” 

“No, you just— you could’ve gone for the source, take it out right then and there!” 

“I wouldn’t make it on time! Do you suppose I could’ve just let you get hit?” 

“I never—“ Mars hesitates. Her arms lose their strength, and she brings them into a sitting position to hold Moon properly. “Sailor Moon?” 

Through blurry eyes, Moon sees Luna pounce on her knee. 

“Sailor Moon?” she echoes. “What’s wrong?” 

Moon can hear the others, either chastising Mars or comforting her, but her ears feel like they’re underwater. 

“Moon—Usagi, I didn’t mean you should ignore me.” Rei frowns, or least her lips seem to form a frown. “I was scared, okay? It scared me when you fell to the ground and didn’t get up.”

“You think I wasn’t?” Usagi wants to yell, yet her voice fails her. “You think I wasn’t scared you’d be like that, too?” 

A blurry Minako bends down to crouch next to Rei, trying to get a word in. Rei puts a hand up. 

“You didn’t have this big of a reaction about me getting injured before,” she says. “Not even when I was hurt in front of you for the first time.” 

“I’m just tired,” Usagi whispers, “of you—of any of you getting injured. Because of me.” 

Luna curls her tail around Usagi’s ankle, and although Usagi can’t see her clearly anymore, she can feel Rei’s gaze burning into her. 

“It’s the same for us, you know,” Makoto says from somewhere above Usagi’s right. “It’s worse when we know it’s supposed to be our duty to protect you.” 

“And I’m tired of it.” Usagi rubs her eyes; they burn, hot and itchy. “I don’t care about duty. Who am I going to report to if you don’t?” 

“Our conscience,” Rei replies. “We have to protect you, Usagi, even at—“ 

Minako nudges her. Nevertheless, Usagi hears the rest of the sentence left unsaid. 

Even at the expense of our lives. 

Been there, done that, Usagi thinks, with some sick humor. 

A hand rests on her left shoulder. “Whether you’re the princess or not, we’re still a team, Usagi,” Ami says. “Teammates protect each other.” 

“I know that! I just—” Reality is starting to feel woozy, like the fatigue from her waking hours has followed her into her nightmare. Her tiara is too heavy for her head. “I just can’t stand seeing you guys hurt. Especially not because of me.” 

Rei’s voice is the closest to benign as Usagi’s ever heard. “That’s unavoidable.” 

Usagi shakes her head. The weakest out of the five, Queen Beryl hisses in her head. Anyone could be a better Sailor Moon than Tsukino Usagi, useless reincarnation of Princess Serenity. 

Usagi says, “I want you guys to promise me something.” 

Any muttering ceases. Rei leans closer, and Usagi says, “Promise me none of you is going to get hurt for my sake again.” 

Mamoru had said, days and weeks ago, “I’ll love you till the very end of this life, Usako.” He’d looked happy, sure, the memory clenches Usagi’s heart so tight she can’t breathe. 

“Promise,” she chokes out. “Please.” 

She can feel the confusion, the hesitation in the air, but Rei etches forward so that her knees bump against Luna’s body. 

“I promise,” Rei says, when she should’ve have yelled at Usagi to get her crap together and to ‘Wake up’ and even slapped her. In her words is a steely certainty that could fool the whole world. 

Usagi nods, tears dripping down her face, and basks in the temporary comfort of empty vows falling up and down around her.   
*  
“I think we should kick Mamoru in the balls.”

Usagi’s hand freezes on the panel. Through the gap she can see Makoto’s head bobbing up and down. 

“Violence is not the answer,” Ami’s voice says, in a tone that indicates this is not the first time they’ve had this conversation. 

“Sometimes it just is,” Minako says nonchalantly, waving a lone finger up in the air from the tatami mat. “What are we gonna do otherwise?” 

“Talk to him?” 

“No offense, Ami, but how do you plan on doing that? ‘Excuse me, Mamoru, I was just wondering why you dumped our best friend out of the blue and then proceeded to kiss her under the moonlight?’ Oh, boy, would that be a jolly conversation I’m dying to have.” 

“Usagi?” Luna hisses from between her legs. “What are you doing?” 

“Shh,” Usagi shushes back, and pulls Luna to her chest just in case. 

“—honestly still think Mamoru deserves to be treated like a decent human being?” Rei’s scoffing. “He’s not exactly being a textbook example of it right now.” 

“Says the one who’s dated him before.” Usagi can basically hear Minako’s eyes rolling. “You have the most experience with him. Was he a decent human being when you were together?” 

“Aside from skipping on dates to attend to Tuxedo Mask duties? Yes, surprisingly.” 

“Then I wonder if something’s bothering him?” Makoto sighs. “I mean, if he didn’t use to be like that he wouldn’t have just changed without reason. Something must’ve happened.” 

“I think we should go help him,” Ami says. 

“Uh, no.” Rei slaps her hand on the table. “He treated Usagi like a sack of shit and we need to go help him? Luna told me, you know. That she wasn’t getting any sleep these nights. You can thank Mamoru for that.” 

Usagi narrows her eyes at Luna. Luna turns her head away, a tough attempt at fooling even the most gullible of people, and then someone else starts speaking. 

“She has these bags under her eyes if you look carefully,” Ami says quietly. “But I don’t think it’s something recent.” 

Makoto’s concern comes out barreling in a rush. “Do you mean she hasn’t been getting enough sleep even before the Mamoru incident?” 

“We’re senshi, so I supposed that was normal, yes.” Ami’s voice drops to a whisper, and Usagi has to strain her ears to catch her murmurs. “Sometimes, I feel like her eyes are swollen.” 

“She’s cr—“ Minako pauses. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t seen her as a sobbing mess ever since Mamoru dumped her. Hell, last time when we were out she started sniffling at the sight of a tuxedo. And it wasn’t even black, it was a dark blue!”

“That’s not what Ami meant,” Rei says, in a tone of voice Usagi can only describe as a mess of various emotions. “Usagi was crying before Mamoru, wasn’t she?” 

There’s a mumble of agreement. Makoto mutters, “But why?” 

“I think,” Ami says, “it had something to do with D-point.” 

Usagi inhales a shaky breath and holds Luna tighter. 

“Ah. No surprise there. Again.” Minako’s voice is low. “I’ve been wondering, actually, since that thing with Rei. I’m just saying—if I saw—Usagi went through enough to traumatize any sane person for life, okay? We just didn’t realize because we were the ones doing the dying.” 

“Mina!” someone exclaims in a whisper-shout. Under her fingers, Luna’s small heart thumps beneath Usagi’s own pulse. 

“If that’s the case, then I don’t think we can do much for her.” Makoto sounds as if she’s shrinking within herself. “We can bat off attacks, sure, but trauma? It could stay with Usagi till the very end.” 

“There’s always hitching her out to shopping trips or have her eat more cakes. Oh, and don’t forget marathoning all the cheesy movies!” 

“Are you sure that’s going to work?” Ami asks doubtfully. 

“For Minako, maybe. For Usagi?” A deep exhale. “She’d start bawling in the middle of the movie just because the main couple blew a kiss at each other or something.” 

“And we don’t want to burden her,” Ami says. “If we fawn on her too much she’d flip the tables on us and worry whether there’s something bothering us.” 

“That’s why we shouldn’t interfere much,” Rei says. “Listen, she’ll come to us if she can’t take it. Usagi’s a crybaby, sure, but she’s also stronger than how she acts. Give or take a couple weeks, and she’ll return to moaning over thirties on tests again.”

There’s a beat of silence. “For the time being, I still say we take her out to malls.” 

“Maybe I could educate her about chess strategies in order to take her mind off things? There’s got to be so much more that can make her feel better.” 

“I’d mention Mamoru, but that’s no good right now.” Makoto stops. “Oh, right, what are we going to do about Mamoru?” 

“We transform,” Minako deadpans, “and then I’ll whip the shit out of the guy.” 

Just like that, any trace of somberness flees from the room. “I volunteer to be the one to electrify him.” 

“Are we going tonight, or now?” 

“No!” Ami exclaims, openly distressed and saving Usagi of the trouble of revealing herself. “We are not transforming to beat up an innocent civilian, not to say a teammate!”

“Then what are we going to do?” Rei cries. “Watch him play around with Usagi’s feelings until she dies of heartbreak?” 

“Of course not! It’s just… Usagi wouldn’t want us to hurt him. And our focus should be on Usagi here, not Mamoru.” 

There’s a thump which Usagi assumes is someone slumping on the tatami mat. Whether it’s out of dejection or realization Usagi isn’t sure she wants to figure out.

“Remember, Usagi’s our first priority no matter what.” 

“Right.” 

Usagi decides, on a cheerful whim, that enough is enough. The paper panel is flung open, Luna yelps, and Usagi attempts a smile. 

“Morning, guys!” she says. “In my defense, the bus was fifteen minutes later than scheduled.”   
*  
The day following Mamoru’s confession about his weird dream, Usagi thinks the senshi seem a bit disappointed. They’re elated for the two of them, of course, but they also look like they were actually looking forward to kneeing her ex-turned-current boyfriend in the groin. 

“They could kill you if they wanted to!” Usagi tries telling Mamoru’s laughter sometime later, gestures extravagant inside the simple walls of his apartment. “I mean, they wouldn’t really do that, but Minako would probably puncture your eardrums from screaming and Rei would scorch you and I don’t know if Ami can hold Mako back from punching you in the nose.” 

“That’s oddly specific,” Mamoru comments, although his smile does seem more strained. “Do they think that even now?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully not.” 

“Well, I can’t blame them if they still want to, um, hurt me.” Mamoru coughs. “I didn’t really treat you all that well, did I?” 

“No.” Usagi crosses her arms. She’s happy she’s back with Mamoru, yes, but that doesn’t mean she’s not mad. “You should’ve talked to me like I did you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mamoru says. 

Usagi’s look softens. “I know. What’s in the past is in the past.” 

The two of them exchange a smile, and Mamoru sets their linked hands from the floor and on the dining table. 

“After we got back together,” Mamoru begins, “Rei and the others pulled me aside and threatened me into treating you well.” His eyes crinkle. “It was then I completely understood why they were appointed as your senshi.” 

Usagi didn’t know that. “Did they?” 

Mamoru grins wider. Usagi loves how he seems more boyish this way. “You’re in good hands, Usako. They care about you a lot.” 

Usagi turns her mug around in her hands. “They do, don’t they?” 

“Is that a genuine question, or do I need not answer?” 

“I guess it’s something I’ve been overthinking a bit.” Usagi scratches her cheek, tongue stuck out. “I’m basically a lot of identities in one body, right? So I’ve been…wondering. Whether I’m Princess Serenity or Sailor Moon. Or if I’m none of them, ‘cause I’m supposed to be Tsukino Usagi, y’know?” 

Mamoru leans back and closes his eyes, as if reminiscing about a time from the distant past. He, too, Usagi understands, has too many names, too many lives. “Does it matter? At least, it doesn’t for me. Why would it matter for them?”   
*  
When Usagi falls back, it comes as a relief. The wind whips past her ears, light flashing before her fluttering eyelids, and as she slips into the dark, she thinks she feels arms wrap around her. 

And then Usagi wakes up with lips on hers, and she kisses back because it’s the only thing she remembers what to do. Mamoru looks at her from underneath his mask, expression pale and shellshocked, and Rei, her hands on Usagi’s arms, lets out a loud snivel. 

“You promised you wouldn’t die,” Rei sobs. The sight tugs and pulls at Usagi’s memories, and she thinks of a hard, cold place where snow was under her feet and she was all alone. 

Minako flies towards Usagi so fast Mamoru is almost knocked aside. Ami falls back, Makoto assists her, and the two of them join the hug. 

“Don’t die.” Amongst the tears and tangled limbs, words start to rise up, as if everything could be packed into something as simple as language alone. “Don’t die, not ever again, please.”

Usagi clutches on to the others as tightly as they do her. 

“I promise,” she says. “I won’t die.” 

They fly back towards Earth, back home.


End file.
